She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. The pleasure intensified quickly, it was as much control as she dared to lose as she heard herself calling his name with all her breath. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. Be this as it may, Jonathan remained the victor; and shortly afterwards,—at the price of a third of his estate, it was whispered,—he procured Trenchard's liberation from confinement. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly.
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